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B.O.S.S. — Rage of the Cursed, Part 8

In case you haven’t noticed, Xallion doesn’t look like this in RoC. I just love this picture of my Orc Warrior in World of Warcraft that shares his name.

Apologize for the late post, but here’s a chapter of Rage of the Cursed to when your appetite for B.O.S.S. stories.

Rage of the Cursed Part 8

Xallion took a sip of his coffee, savoring the familiar Rhialnan blend. It was all he could do to ignore the stares from the other patrons of the café. The forest folk weren’t uncommon in the city and southern soldiers were respected.

Tieshaie poked a spoon through her drink, the most expensive item on the menu—an assured act of spite—and fixed her gaze on him. “So, since you’re paying so much, how far to you expect me to go?”

He sputtered his coffee and slammed down the cup. “What?”

She lowered her voice. “Oh, you think you can get away with calling me a prostitute? Get ready to suffer, buddy.”

Xallion glanced to the surrounding tables, no one seemed to have heard. “Look, you have it wrong. It’s not what I think… it’s just… you’re too beautiful of a woman for my ilk. People will assume—”

“You think I care what people think?” She leaned back, folding her arms. “I want to know what you think. Besides, I don’t buy it. You look fine, handsome even.”

The atmosphere shifted. She had said it so bluntly and without regret.

“So, you think I’m handsome?”

“Don’t let it go to your head. I’m just saying I’m not embarrassed to be around you. IT pisses me off that you can’t say the same.” She put her hands at her mouth, imitating a snobby aristocrat. Oh, look at man with that trollip, no doubt he plans to have illicit relations with her. The nerve.”

She had a point. What did it matter? He chuckled to himself. “You do a good impression, you must have been to Rhialn.”

“No, fake people like that are everywhere,” she said, taking a heavy gulp of her drink. “They can all rot. Wow, this is really good.”

“Goes well with lamb,” Xallion said. “If you’re into that sort of thing.”

She raised a brow, scooped up the menu and looked it over. Their only lamb dish was the third most expensive item on the menu.

“I’d get it over the stewed gibbon brains. It tastes as bad as it sounds,” Xallion said.

For the record, gibbon brains was the most expensive item on the menu.

She put down the menu and sighed. “Fine. I’ll try it, but I better love it.”

Xallion smiled behind his second sip of coffee.

“You don’t strike me as the classy sort. I mean, I’ve never been to this place or anything like it. Usually I get laughed out of the front door, even if I have the money to pay for it.”

“It’s because I’m not,” Xallion said. “If I learned anything in Rhialn, it’s the fine art of acting like you should be places you don’t belong. I don’t really care about money. You looked like you wanted to go somewhere nice, and here we are.”

“So you’re rich? Is that it?”

“Not even close. You keep ordering like that and I’ll need to hunt my food for the next month. Lucky for me, I don’t mind doing that at all.”

“You’re weird,” Tieshaie said, taking another sip of her drink. “But weird is fine by me.”

The waiter approached, giving Tieshaie a cordial glance, before addressing Xallion. “What can I get you today, sir?”

“Hey,” Tieshaie smacked the table. “You’re supposed to ask the lady what she wants first.”

The waiter flinched, glaring back at her. “I would, if a lady was present.”

“Relax, he’s just keeping to decorum.” Xallion said, waving her to sit. He glanced to her, giving her a small nod and stayed calm. “But if you disrespect my partner again, I’ll have to kill you. Are we clear, Sir?”